The Scandalous Miss Howard Read online

  “I didn’t ask you,” said an upset Laurette. “Oh, what am I going to do? I have nothing to wear! Nothing!”

  Ruby Lee harumphed loudly, turned and waddled into Laurette’s large dressing room. There she rifled through dozens of lovely dresses, many of which had never been worn. Finally she chose a frothy rose chiffon ball gown, tossed it over her arm and went back to Laurette.

  Ruby Lee held out the garment, “Let’s try this one, honey lamb. You’ve never worn it and the color would look real nice with your hair.”

  “Yes!” Laurette agreed, enthusiastically, “Exactly what I’ve been looking for! Something grown-up and alluring. I simply have to look my best tonight!”

  Ruby Lee chuckled. “You say that every time you go out.” She lifted the dress over Laurette’s head, muffling Laurette’s reply. When the dress fell into place on Laurette’s slender body, Ruby Lee immediately began fastening the tiny little self-covered buttons in back. “What did you say?”

  “I said, tonight is different.”

  “And why is that?” asked Johanna, a well-arched eyebrow lifted.

  Laurette spun around to face her inquisitive friend. “Because I intend to make Ladd Dasheroon realize that I am no longer a child.”

  Ruby Lee chuckled. “You’re both still children and as far as I can see…”

  “You may go now, Ruby Lee,” Laurette cut her off.

  “I’m going, I’m going,” said Ruby Lee, wagging her head and muttering to herself as she left.

  Laurette turned about several times in front of the free-standing mirror, checking to make sure the skirts of the rose chiffon dress would swirl out prettily when she danced. They did. She pinched her cheeks, bit her lips and then, grinning naughtily, urged the bodice of her tight-waisted ball gown down a half inch lower than it was supposed to be worn.

  She checked the gentle swell of her pale bosom that rose subtly above the low-cut bodice. Oh, yes. Surely, Ladd would notice. Jimmy, home on summer furlough from West Point, would be sure to see, and to let her know that he had. But it wasn’t Jimmy’s attention she wanted. It was Ladd’s. She wanted Ladd to notice. She had to make him notice. She had to make him start seeing her as the woman she now was.

  Laurette exhaled with frustration.

  “What’s wrong now?” asked Johanna, motioning to Juliette as she took Laurette’s arm and began propelling her toward the bedroom door.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Johanna,” Laurette said sharply.

  But it was. She had, in the past few months, tried her best to captivate Ladd, to intrigue him, to make him aware that she no longer thought of him as a big brother. And that she didn’t want him to think of her as a little sister.

  What, she wondered, would she have to do to make Ladd love her as she loved him?

  Directly across Dauphin, Ladd was still in his bedroom at the front of grand Dasheroon mansion. He was not yet dressed. He could hear the music, the talking and laughter. He knew it was getting late. Knew he should be with his mother and father, greeting arriving guests.

  His valet, Lucas, had laid out a pair of perfectly pressed evening trousers along with a matching frock coat, white pleated shirt and black cravat.

  But if he wore the dark suit, Ladd reasoned, he would look exactly like every other male present. He didn’t want that. He wanted to stand out. He wanted Laurette to walk into the ballroom and immediately spot him in the crowd. He wanted her eyes to cling to him, her pulse to quicken, her heart to flutter a little.

  Wearing only his white linen underwear, Ladd stalked into his cedar-paneled dressing room. From an extensive wardrobe, he decisively took down a handsomely tailored white dinner jacket, slipped his long arms inside and looked at himself in the freestanding pier glass. He liked what he saw well enough. He had spent time out in the sun, helping out at River Plantation and taking swims in the bay. His deeply tanned skin was accentuated by the stark contrast of the snowy-white dinner jacket.

  Ladd felt that he had to look his very best tonight. He had decided he would wait no longer to tell Laurette he loved her. Tonight was to be the most important night of his whole life and he wanted everything to be perfect.

  Dressed at last, Ladd gave himself one last quick appraising glance in the mirror. He grimaced in annoyance. A lock of unruly raven hair fell forward onto his forehead. He impatiently brushed it back, but it wouldn’t stay in place. There was nothing he could do about it.

  Sweeping the rebellious lock back again, Ladd left his room. He hurried toward the ballroom. His heart racing with excitement, he paused in the arched doorway, looked around and entered the crowded hall.

  And immediately felt his heart stop, then squeeze painfully in his chest when he spotted his slender, golden-haired angel dancing in the arms of his best friend Jimmy Tigart.

  Laurette was smiling and her eyes were shining and she appeared to be having a wonderful time. Jimmy was holding her intimately close and bending to whisper something in her ear. She laughed, turned her head and saw Ladd. But before she could make eye contact, he was gone.

  Miserable, Ladd turned and fled the crowded ballroom. He anxiously exited the open double doors onto the moonlit balcony and raced down the curving steps. He hurried around the house and sprinted all the way out into the far back gardens to be alone.

  Laurette could hardly wait for the dance to end.

  An innocent dance with Jimmy Tigart had done what she’d been trying to do for months. It had made Ladd notice her in a way he never had before. Ladd had walked into the ballroom, seen her in Jimmy’s arms and had suffered a bout of jealousy.

  She was elated.

  He wouldn’t be jealous if he didn’t care. Although there was no need to be jealous of Jimmy. She loved only Ladd. Jimmy was quite dashing in his dress gray uniform, but she thought of him only as a friend. She belonged, heart and soul, to Ladd and always would.

  And, oh, how handsome he looked tonight. One quick glance had taken her breath away. His black hair had gleamed in the light of the chandeliers and an unruly lock had fallen appealingly low on his forehead. His smooth olive complexion made a striking contrast to the spotless white jacket he wore. His incredible indigo eyes were broodingly beautiful and his perfectly sculpted, full-lipped mouth was set. He was tall and trim and he stood out from the crowd.

  And Laurette knew that he would stand out from the crowd for the rest of his life. For the rest of hers.

  The waltz finally ended.

  Laurette started to step out of Jimmy’s arms, but he held her fast. “One dance is not enough, sweetheart. Give me another.”

  She shook her head decisively. “Sorry, Jimmy.” She skillfully disengaged herself. “I can’t. Not right now.”

  She started backing away. He followed.

  “Of course, you can,” he coaxed. “Come here to me, birthday girl.”

  “I said no,” she told him firmly and, eyes flashing with determination, she turned and left him.

  Outside on the balcony, Laurette lifted the full skirts of her ball gown, descended the steps and went in search of Ladd. Forgetting, momentarily, that she was now a young lady, she yanked her billowing skirts up to her knees, raced around the house and hurried out onto the estate’s manicured grounds.

  She found Ladd out beyond the last terrace at the far edge of the gardens where the camellia and azalea bushes gave way to a row of banana trees bordering the estate. He was standing with his back to her, arms crossed over his chest. Laurette didn’t speak his name or call out to him. She walked directly up to him, stopped and waited until he sensed her presence and turned to face her.

  At last he did.

  Slowly he turned, looked squarely at her, and the misery written on his boyishly handsome face and in his azure eyes touched her heart as nothing had before.

  Laurette didn’t hesitate.

  She stepped closer, put her slender arms around Ladd’s trim waist, guilelessly looked up at him and said softly, “Ladd, do you know that I love you?”

 
“And I love you, Lollie,” he replied, afraid to make too much of her confession.

  “No, no, I don’t mean that way,” she eagerly set him straight. “Not like when we were children. I am in love with you, Ladd, and if you don’t love me back, I will die of a broken heart.”

  So relieved that he wanted to shout with joy, Ladd started to grin as his nervous arms went around the young girl he adored. Swallowing anxiously, he said, “Lollie, I do love you. Oh, I do. I love you, I’ve always loved you. I will never love anyone else.”

  “Nor will I,” Laurette declared, then affectionately pressed her cheek against his chest. “You are the only one I will ever love,” she promised. She lifted her head, smiled up at him and repeated, “The only one, ever, I swear it.”

  Ladd was dazzled. By what she was saying and by the sight of the summer moonlight silvering her long, pale hair and the unmistakable look of love shining out of her beautiful dark eyes. His arms tightened around her.

  His knees trembling now, he asked, “May I…kiss you?”

  “Yes.” She was quick to give permission. Then, brows knitting, added candidly, “But I don’t know how to kiss.”

  “I don’t, either,” he admitted, “but we can learn together.”

  “Yes,” she said, “we can. We will. Kiss me, Ladd. Kiss me.”

  Ladd gently drew Laurette up on tiptoe, lowered his head and timidly pressed his closed lips against hers. It was a sweet, brief, innocent caress, but thoroughly pleasing to the young pair involved. Laurette loved the feel of Ladd’s smooth, warm mouth covering her own and Ladd immensely enjoyed tasting Laurette’s soft, sweet lips.

  At the conclusion of that first kiss, the couple stood in the moonlight, silent and unmoving, hearts beating as one, gazing at each other in wonder and adoration. Abruptly, they became aware that their bodies were touching from torso to knees.

  It was a brand-new sensation for them both. Laurette thrilled to the feel of the hard, sculpted muscles of Ladd’s chest gently crushing her sensitive breasts. And the touch of his flat, washboard belly pressed against her nervously fluttering stomach. And the long, granite bones of his thighs intimately brushing hers through the folds of her full chiffon skirts.

  If it was exciting to Laurette to stand in Ladd’s close embrace, it was heaven on earth for Ladd. Her soft, full breasts pressing into his chest made him shiver with pleasure and the feel of her pale thighs rubbing against his own through the barrier of their clothes was nearly too sweet to be endured.

  Ladd kissed Laurette again.

  And yet again.

  Their birthday party forgotten, Ladd and Laurette continued to stay there in the moon-silvered garden for another half hour, kissing, touching, sighing.

  And making vows.

  “Promise me you’ll never let anyone else kiss you, Lollie,” Ladd whispered against her temple.

  “I promise,” Laurette murmured dreamily. “Yours are the only lips that will ever touch mine.”

  “You’ll remember your promise when I’m far away at West Point?”

  “I will,” she said, “besides, we have a whole year before you leave.”

  “Yes,” he said, smiling, “we can do a lot of kissing in a year.”

  Laurette laughed merrily. “Yes, we can. We will. But now, we have a duty to our guests. We’d better get back, don’t you think?”

  “I’d totally forgotten about the party,” Ladd happily admitted and kissed her one more time.

  Seven

  Ladd and Laurette’s sweet, innocent romance began that warm summer evening in the fragrant gardens of the Dasheroon estate. In love, happy, Laurette and Ladd were content to be alone together. To kiss and kiss until their lips were puffy and tender and their hearts were racing with excitement.

  They didn’t immediately tell their parents that they had fallen madly in love. They were afraid that if their parents knew how they really felt about each other, they wouldn’t be allowed to spend so much time alone.

  But, with Laurette’s permission, Ladd did tell Jimmy. The very next day after the big birthday party, Ladd confided in his friend.

  “She loves me!” Ladd joyously declared. “Laurette loves me as much as I love her.”

  “How do you know?” asked Jimmy, brows knitting. “I thought you were going to wait. Weren’t going to tell her yet.”

  “I didn’t. She told me!” Ladd was ecstatic.

  “I don’t quite follow.”

  “Last night Laurette came out to the garden, walked right up to me and told me that she loved me and wanted me to love her back. And I do love her, so I told her so and that I wanted to marry her.”

  “I’m happy for you both,” said Jimmy Tigart with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  By the Thanksgiving holiday the couple could no longer keep their secret. Over roasted turkey and corn bread dressing served in the spacious dining room of the Howard mansion, Ladd announced that he and Laurette had fallen in love and intended to marry and spend their lives together.

  Both sets of parents were fully approving of the match. The Howards couldn’t have asked for a finer young man to be their spirited daughter’s beau. They trusted Ladd implicitly, knew they could count on him to behave properly with the naive Laurette. The Dasheroons realized just how much Ladd cared for Laurette and were thrilled with the prospect of having her for their daughter-in-law.

  Douglas Dasheroon, with T. H. Howard nodding his agreement as he accepted a second piece of pumpkin pie, reminded his smitten son and the girl he loved that Ladd was expected to follow in the family tradition and go to West Point.

  “I know,” said Ladd. “Laurette understands.” He looked at her and smiled.

  “I’m sure she does,” said her father, T.H., “but do both of you realize that the growing rift between the North and South could lead to…to war?”

  “T.H.!” Marion scolded her husband, “this is a holiday.”

  “T.H. is right,” said Douglas, looking somber. “The recent violence at Harper’s Ferry is only the beginning. The South is a powder keg, ready to explode. And, should war come…”

  “I would serve in the Confederacy,” Ladd interrupted, unworried.

  “And I would wait for his return,” stated Laurette.

  “Let’s hope that won’t be necessary,” said Carrie, shooting her husband a silencing look. She smiled at Ladd and Laurette and said, “All we ask, children, is that you wait to marry until Ladd has completed his education.” The other parents nodded their unanimity.

  The sweethearts agreed.

  And then gave silent thanks that they had an advantage over most young couples who were in love. It appeared that their fears had been unfounded, that they would continue to be allowed the luxury of being alone whenever they chose without censure from either set of parents.

  They were right.

  Neither the Howards nor the Dasheroons worried about Ladd and Laurette spending so much time together. After all, the children had grown up together, had spent their lives together. It would be senseless to try to keep them apart now. Besides, they had complete trust in both Ladd and Laurette, just as they’d always had.

  Laurette and Ladd were acutely aware of that trust and truly wanted to be worthy of it. Neither wanted to do anything that would hurt or disappoint their parents. Both were honorable and responsible, had been raised to respect their elders and to abide by the dictates and restrictions of courtly society.

  But they were so desperately in love that they yearned to share more than just kisses. Their fevered, fully clothed bodies strained and ached with their growing need. Their eager hands grew ever more bold, nervous fingers anxiously exploring the wondrous configuration of their very different bodies.

  Ladd’s gentle hands frequently found their way to Laurette’s soft, full breasts and she hadn’t the will to make him stop. She squirmed and sighed and trembled as he tenderly caressed her through the fabric of her clothes.

  On a foggy Friday night in early January, the
embracing pair sat in the darkness of a parked carriage directly in front of Laurette’s house. The Dasheroon’s driver, the easygoing Moses, sat atop the brougham’s box patiently waiting for them to get out.

  But they lingered, reluctant to say good-night. Kissing, sighing, the embracing pair couldn’t get enough of each other. Each time they were alone now, the burning desire blazed ever hotter, their need for each other so intense it was painful. All their good intentions to remain pure and virginal were beginning to melt away in the burning heat that constantly enveloped them.

  After yet another prolonged kiss that left both Ladd and Laurette weak with wanting, Laurette gasped softly with shocked pleasure when Ladd’s hand drifted down to her flat belly, then moved lower still. She gazed into Ladd’s smoldering blue eyes as he tenderly caressed her where she had never been touched before. His long, tanned fingers seemed to burn their way right through her full woolen skirts and silk underwear.

  It felt good.

  So good.

  “Oh, Ladd,” she breathed, excited, disturbed, “you must stop. Please stop.”

  “I know,” Ladd said, quickly withdrawing his hand. “I’m sorry, Lollie, forgive me.”

  He gritted his teeth and silently cursed himself. His passion for her had become a constant driving force in him, causing him to lose sleep, torturing him almost beyond endurance. At the same time he loved her so much he wanted to safeguard and protect her, even from himself.

  “Let’s go in,” he said, reaching for her hand. “It’s getting late.”

  Laurette nodded, but stayed as she was. “I’m sorry, Ladd. Don’t be angry with me.”

  He managed a weak smile. “I could never be angry with you, Lollie. It’s just…oh, sweetheart…I can’t help it, I want you so much, it…it…hurts. I hurt.”

  “I know,” she whispered, understanding completely, and then caused Ladd to lose his breath when, to his astonishment, she placed her hand on his groin. Her warm, soft palm and slender fingers settled possessively on the hard flesh straining the confines of his tight buff trousers. She said truthfully, “I love you, Ladd. I’d do anything for you. I don’t want you to hurt. I don’t want you to ever hurt.” Her fingers awkwardly stroked. “Let me take this hurt away.”